


If you believe it does

by ESpaghedward



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gay Richie Tozier, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inner Dialogue, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Maturin isn't dead, POV Richie Tozier, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sad, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESpaghedward/pseuds/ESpaghedward
Summary: "Are you gonna take me back under Neibolt house? If that’s the case, I know what to do. I just need to be careful with those damn deadlights! It could work!""I can’t take you back there""Then where?""Not where. When""What the fuck does it mean?""I can take you back in time, but in the last years I’ve been too weak, I need to take you back at a time when I was more powerful. You’re gonna find your younger self and instruct him. You can’t say anything about this at the others. Good luck""No wait a fucking minute! Which year are you gonna send me to asshole?!"Or It: Chapter Two from Richie's pov. Eddie dies, Richie's a mess and a giant turtle decides to help him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	If you believe it does

**Author's Note:**

> I've been listening to Pinegrove's "Old Friends" while writing. Over and over.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAtGGZjVRdo

"We promised. You have to come back”

As soon as he presses the end call button, he’s throwing up whatever it is that’s left inside his stomach. Mostly alcohol, probably.

_Fuck you Mike! You couldn’t wait at least half an hour?_

After that Richie has this kind of extra corporeal experience: he sees himself - actually a version of himself who seems to be under some sort of acid - being taken back inside by his manager, asking for a bourbon, drinking it in one go, then stepping on stage. From then on he’s just capable of making a foul out of himself, forgetting his fucking - and honestly terrible - lines. Masturbating-on-your-girlfriend-friend jokes are clearly overestimated by his editors. That being said, there’s only one thing that’s occupying his mind at the moment.

_Derry. Derry. Derry. Something bad happened there when I was a kid. Derry. Derry. Derry._

It goes on and on, like a mantra. He leaves the stage after five long shamefully minutes, and he’s sure that much time is enough to ruin his reputation, at least for a while. Some sort of semi coherent thoughts about it pass his mind.

_They’re gonna think I was under drugs, or that I’m an alcoholic. Well, I do drink sometimes. More than sometimes actually. Fuck. Ok. Let’s say that lately I can sleep only if I provide myself two full glasses. Still not the most important problem at the moment._

He gets back to the backstage, and he knows that his manager is shouting something at him, he can see him doing it, but he can’t actually listen, can’t focus, cause his mind is louder than anything else at the moment. It shouts down every other sound.

_It was Hanlon, wasn’t it? Mike Hanlon. Mikey. He said that he was going to call the others. Who are the others? There was... Bill! Big Bill, oh god! He threw me a punch. Asshole!_

Richie feels the sudden urge to caress his face, as if the burning of a twenty seven years old punch could still hurt him in the present.

_Then who? Stan! How is it possible that I forget Stan the man? With his damn birds. There’s someone else…_

He enters his changing room and shuts the door behind him, then starts pacing around, head in hands, drops of sweat rolling down from his messy hair, meeting his trembling fingers.

_Bev! Oh yeah Bev! She was such a badass! I used to smoke with her after lessons. Bill had a huge crush on her. Who else had? ... Ben! Haystack! Course, he was head over heels for Bev too! It was clear as day. Am I missing someone? Which one of them was my best friend? I’m sure I had one. But as charming as I was they were probably fighting over each other to win the title._

He lets out a loud - and slightly mad - laugh a that. Now he can clearly remember how annoying he was, always running his mouth, never shutting up. Doing voices and cracking bad jokes. Not that something has changed, not at all.

_Stan couldn’t stand me! He used to roll his eyes all the time. Actually it made it a lot more enjoyable! Loved pulling those reactions out of him. Well, surely it wasn’t as funny as it was with…_

He dead stops at center of the room, eyes wide like the one and only Jesus Christ has decided to appear in front of him. Wearing an AC/DC shirt. Eating a rainbow ice cream. On a unicorn. Suddenly someone - again, probably his manager - is beating furiously at the door, and funny fact: they’re matching perfectly his beating heart, that’s starting to accelerate at an alarming pace. In the end, not so funny.

_Eddie._

His sweating hand finds the back of a chair, because Richie clearly needs some kind of support at the moment; also his knees are evidently turning into jelly, cause he can’t stand still.

_Eddie. Eds. Eddie Spaghetti. Oh my fucking god…_

Then an unexpected realization climbs over him, like a filthy and dirty - your dirty little secret – snake.

_He was my best friend. And I was in love with him._

And suddenly Richie is booking a flight to Maine - just a one way ticket, cause something tells him that probably it’s all he’s going to need - and booking a room in Derry. He gets to his luxury and empty celebrity like house in half the time it usually takes him to, changes his sweat drenched clothes and puts a spare change in a bag. He reaches the airport as fast as he can and then he’s flying over the country. Memories are starting to flow inside his head. Well, at least pieces of them.

_Arcade. Ice creams. Clubhouse. Hammock. Funny pack. Aladdin. Quarry. Red short shorts. Barrens._

He hates that, and feels the urge to shout down immediately these memories he’d just recovered. He calls one of the hostess, the short and blonde one; she seems to recognize him and quotes one of his - are them really his in the end? - famous lines. Finally he manages to ask her for something - more than just "something" - to drink, and in what feels like barely forty minutes, he’d landed, had rented an extremely expensive car, - _come on, you wanna show off now?_ \- and drove to the hell hole that is Derry. Now he’s standing at the entrance of one of the old townhouse rooms. Richie throws his bag and jacket in a corner and sits at the end of the bed, elbows on his knees and hands covering his eyes, glasses left on the sheets. He can feel the beginning of a terrible headache and he knows there’s at lest half an hour left before he needs to head out. Mike has called him when he was ten minutes on his way to Derry.

"How was the flight?"

"Managed to live through it, so"

"Good. Listen Richie, we’re having dinner this evening, all together"

"Ok. Are all the others coming?”

Mike staid silent for a few seconds before giving him an answer.

"Sure. They are. I’m gonna text you later for details. Bye Richie. I’m glad you came."

Now, Richie could easily hide himself under the old looking blanket, take a nap or just close his eyes. What stops him from doing exactly that is the not indifferent fear of what the sleep could bring him. New memories? Maybe. Nightmares? Definitely.

_Don’t want that. Absolutely not. Fuck fuck fuck! Gonna google "how to fucking shout your dam brain down"._

He’s actually going to fetch his smartphone in the abandoned jacket when suddenly a new wave of memories threatens to overwhelm him.

_It’s a sunny day at the Quarry. It’s the first time that Beverly joins them there. She’s lying on her back, catching the sun. The rest of them are just staring like idiots at her exposed skin._

Richie lets out a frustrated groan followed by a loud "Fuck", then grabs his jacket and heads out of the room. He goes straight to the parking lot where he’d previously left his car and rapidly mounts on it. He closes the door and grabs the steering wheel with both hands - knuckles turning white - and lets his head rest on it.

_Wanna go home, wanna go home, wanna go home. Fuck this dumb reunion! This is making me sick!_

"Don’t wanna see those losers by the way" he mumbles.

He sighs at the terrible lie, and turns on the engine. If he can’t run back to the airport, at least he’s going for a drive, just to kill time and try to take his mind busy. This works quite well, and he succeed in spending the last hour left without new memories coming back, just driving around looking at his surroundings, like a creepy man, a serial killer searching for a prey or a stalker. When Richie parks outside the Jade of the Orient restaurant, there are already two people standing there, talking. He can’t hold back a smile.

_Here we go. Short red hair, beautiful, got tits. So obviously she’s Bev. She was also the only girl so, easy one. That guy instead? What the fuck! Why’s he looking at Bev like that? Like a puppy. Oh my god, he’s Ben! Of course it’s him! He’s kinda hot, honestly and absolutely objectively speaking"_

He shakes his head and gets out of the car while the other two throw themselves into a tight hug. As soon as Richie reaches them the embrace ends.

"Wow, you two look amazing! What the fuck happened to me?"

*

Walking through the restaurant is basically torture. He has this strange idea that they’re going to come closer and closer to their destination but never actually get there.

_So hypothetically speaking we are thirty steps from the table, than they’re going to be fifteen, seven and a half, three and seventy five, than one and...eight and... something else but in the end we’re never going to get there! Always shorting the distance but never get to arrive. It has to be like this! Have heard about this shit somewhere in high school…_

He tends to forget that he used to get straight As as a student. But then the waitress stops and gestures towards a more quiet and private space, where three men are chatting near a circular table. Searching their features, looking for some clue, he almost immediately recognize Mike and Bill. Than his eyes land on the shorter man with soft brown hair, big brown doe eyes and brows furrowed, wearing a dark red sweater over a light colored polo- _cute cute cute_. Richie can tell the exact moment his brain understands who the man really is, cause his heart. Fucking. Stops. Beating.

_Eds. Oh god! This isn’t fair!_

Still no beating.

_I’m still in love whit this motherfucker._

And his heart starts again, louder. He can actually hear it pumping the blood trough all of his body. He also feels incredibly hot, hands slippery with sweat. It’s strange how Richie is sure that something similar to a fucking volcano has start to erupt inside of him and literally nobody has noticed anything. Trying and probably failing to compose himself he rings the gong between him and Ben, catching everyone’s attention.

"The meeting of the Losers Club has officially begun!"

As the three of them turn in their direction, acknowledging their presence, Eddie’s sight lands exactly over him and Richie’s is sure that he sees his eyes do this funny thing were the pupils get suddenly bigger when, he assumes, Eddie recognizes him. It’s a moment, a fraction of a second, and maybe it’s just a miserable product of his imagination.

*

The dinner is going pretty well, except, of course, for Richie’s _I’m going to repress these feelings and act as if they don’t exist at all_. Still trying to keep his facade up, he cracks jokes and annoys everyone, especially the man sitting at his left. It’s funny how times hasn’t managed to change him.

_Still furrows his brows all the time. Still use every possible swear word to shout me up. Still has these fucking doe eyes. And he’s short, god! If I hugged him my chin would comfortably rest upon his head. Also I wanna hold his hand. Fuck!_

And the urge is so strong that obliges him to lower his gaze on the actual target of his desire: Eddie’s hands at the moment are busy playing with the napkin. They’re surely smaller than his, and seem also kinda softer; probably the man hasn’t drop his morning routine of moisture cream and whatever he used to put on them when they were kids. Richie’s studying his fingers when another little - non so little - heart attack surprises him.

_Is that a fucking ring on his damn ring finger?! Eddie’s married?!_

Richie have heard people explaining what is like to have your heart broken and he’d always thought that they were exaggerating the entire matter. But now, the idea of Eddie being married - to someone else - breaks his own heart into pieces so tiny that he could easily roll a banknote and sniff it all up his nose - _LA-way-to-deal-with-prolems™_. The man in question, probably feeling Richie’s gaze, turns to his right facing him with an interrogative expression. Richie, mouth slightly open, begins staring alternatively between Eddie’s face and his left hand. Miming his gesture, Eddie is finally able to understand what the man is actually looking at. Suddenly the napkin is left on the table and the hands that were holding it decide to hide themselves under it. Richie follows the gesture never blinking once. Then, hoping to find some sort of explanation inside them, his gaze moves again over the other man’s eyes; maybe it’s just a sensation - or more probably Richie’s projecting his own feelings on him - but the first things that can be read inside them is regret. Fear, sadness and something that recalls fondness follow rapidly one another, leaving Richie with a whole new range of questions. And wouldn’t it be easier if he just dropped the issue and waited to be at the townhouse again, before having the great speech? Easier? Hardly. Facing your problems and have a healthy conversation? No thanks. Probably kinder, but then again Richie isn’t known for his well behavior and polite manners. He’s basically an asshole, with a capital A. An hurt asshole. At least he has the decency to wait for the next round of shots; they cheers - Richie drinks his own shot hands free - and he focus everyone’s attention over the matter.

"So wait Eddie, you got married?"

"Yeah, why’s that so fucking funny dickwad?"

"What, to like, a woman?"

"Fuck your bro!"

_God, his face is priceless! I used to live for moments like this one!_

"Fuck youuu!"

*

Stan isn’t coming, that became clear at a certain point; the only explanation provided - surprise, surprise! by Richie himself - is that he’s a big chicken. Actually the matter is brought on the table by Ben, shy Ben who only wants to drift the conversation off him being ridiculously handsome. Richie and Eddie keep on fighting over every possible argument. Despite the years they fall back in their bickering so easily that’s actually a little bit scary. How is it possible to forget someone for over than twenty years and then, after barely an hour, still act as if you’ve always been together? Richie at some point finds himself wondering if the time they’ve spent away from each other actually counts as a relevant part of his life. It all seems kind of meaningless at the moment. Every day of his existence, from the day he’d left Derry, had just been a little step on his way to be reunited with the losers - with Eddie. Nothing more. "Look, you have these twenty years, more or less, but they’re not really important. So just go and spend them in some sort of way, maybe don’t die, if you can, cause you need to come back and be with the only people who actually means something to you. Now go, have fun"

_Sure, but it seems like everyone here but me managed to have at least a decent life. Think they’re going back at it when this is all over. Also... what the fuck is "this"?_

And in a heartbeat they’re shifting from "Hey, I dare you to beat me at arm wrestling" – Eddie had tried to distract him by proposing to take off their shirts and kiss; something that hasn’t absolutely send Richie’s brain in short circuit - to "It has come back". It, also known as

_the fucking alien clown that has fucked up our childhood! It’s back? Fuck this shit I wanna go home for real now! No way I’m staying here and get killed!_

As Mike tries to explain them what’s happening in Derry, and that those events are a clear proof of It’s return, the waitress comes in and leaves on the table a bowl full of fortune cookies. But they’re far from being plain fortune cookies. By means of them It kindly inform the losers that Stan hasn’t made it, adding a healthy dose of group hallucination of terrifying and disgusting creatures coming out right from the aforementioned cookies. After Mike has finished hitting with a chair the horrible creatures creeping over the table - numerous times - they’re heading out of the restaurant. In the general state of panic, Richie shouts at a child after he’d quoted him one of his - editors - lines, thinking it was another trick performed by the evil clown. Honestly speaking, "The fun is just beginning" would totally be somethings It could be saying after pulling a trick like the one he had just played them. Ben is the only one to comment on Richie’s mad outburst.

"Jesus Richie, you don’t remember a line of your own show?"

"I don’t write my own material"

"I fucking knew it!" is what comes out of Eddie’s mouth after a few seconds, said in this odd triumphant way. Richie has no time to try to understand what the man’s words imply, cause Bev is suddenly having a call, and on the other line of the phone a destroyed Patricia Uris - now widow Uris - inform them that her dear husband is dead. He had cut his wrists in the bathtub after a strange call.

_Stan is dead. He cut his fucking wrist cause he didn’t wanna came back here. It’s suicide. Stan. Stan the man is gone. Adios. Never gonna see him again._

It doesn't matter the fact that Richie had been ignoring Stan’s existence before Mike’s call. It hurts the same way. But fortunately he has no time to linger on that feeling cause he’s busy shouting that he’s not staying in Derry another single minute. He goes back to his car with the clear intention to head back to the townhouse, fetch his things and just fuck off, and he’s promptly followed by Eddie, Bev and Ben. They leave Bill alone with Mike, who’s surely gonna try to convince the one that, in the end, is still their leader.

*

"Eduardo! Ándale! Let’s go!"

Richie’s is waiting for Eddie near the stairs, ready to go, and he’s sure that nothing, at this point, could change his mind. Obviously he’s proved wrong, cause as soon as Eddie reaches them, their dear Bev - under Ben’s light pressure - confess that when she was caught in the deadlights as a kid, she had seen all of them die. If they can’t succeed on defeating It this time, they’re all gonna die. No one will be spared. Isn’t it a good time for a drink?

_We’re gonna die, all right. So there’s no fucking harm in drinking everything this shitty townhouse has to offer me!_

The situation gets worse when Bill and Mike - reappeared during Beverly’s confession - try to explain them what they need to do to finally defeat It. The whole thing is a peace of cake. They just need to perform the ritual of Chud, that this "Shokopiwah" people have already tried to accomplish. Also, there’s this kinda unclear line that goes like this: "All living things must abide the laws of the shape they inhabit". Sure, it’s all foggy and mysterious and scary, and clearly they’re all fools, but one thing is absolutely clear: if they don’t beat It this cycle then they’re gonna die. So apparently they’re all in, and it seems that the next step involves a funny trip at the Barrens. For the times being they’re free to go to their rooms and try to rest a bit. Richie obviously chooses to stay and keep on with his mission _"drowning into this cheap alcohol"_. He’s honestly surprised when he noticed that Eddie’s staying as well. He’s standing awkwardly near the stairs, arms folded and brows furrowed.

"You wanna something to drink Eds? Or maybe you prefer standing there like a creepy guy?"

"I’m not a creepy guy! And don’t call me that, asshole! You know I’ve always hated it!"

"Strange, thought you’ve always loved the pet names I gave you. Oh, wait"

"Don’t say it!"

"that was your mom! Also she used to call me Big Richie, if you know what I mean"

Eddie groans and shakes his head as he takes a sit at the counter. Richie leans over from the opposite side, elbows over the surface and head in hands, and puts on this dreamy and silly expression.

"Anyway how’s Mrs K, one and only love of my fucked up life, doing? Wasn’t she restless all these years without me? Bet she would enjoy a ride now that I’ve got bigger and I’m finally one-third her weight"

Eddie tries with all his might to suppress a laugh by covering his mouth, but it’s a hard task. He makes this giggling noises that transfix Richie’s heart like arrows.

_Why is Eds giggling like e kid? I wanna record him and listen to it like everyday from now on. Fuck I need to make him do it again. I’m gonna do everything to make it possible! I’m gonna strip, steal something from Bev’s luggage, put it on and make a show if that’s what it takes!_

"Let it go Eds! I know you think I’m incredibly funny, it’s no secret!"

"Ok first, never said it, not even once! Second I’ve just told you to not call me that"

"Sorry dude, sometimes I forget that you prefer to be called with your full name"

"No please"

"Eddie Spaghetti, my man, are we good now? Can we keep on chatting about your gorgeous mom?"

"God I hate that even more! Fuck you! Also you know what? My mom is dead. No more mom jokes material for you dickwad!"

What Richie’s thinking is basically something like _Fuck yeah the evil bitch is finally dead!_ but he refrains himself and just asks Eddie when it happened and says that he’s sorry, like a civil person, for once in his life.

"No dude, it’s ok. She passed away six years ago. Also I know that you’re not really sorry! She was awful, and I wasn’t sad when it happened. Kinda fucked up, don’t you think?"

"Noo, as her longtime lover I can totally say that she was terrible. No, I’m serious man, it’s totally ok if you’re not sorry for her, all right?"

Richie feels like he needs to say something else, cause the look on Eddie’s face is quite miserable. A joke could easily do a good job, but he’s getting a little bit tipsy - and those repressed feelings inside him are putting on a fight to get free - so instead he decides to be honest.

"She was a psycho Eds! She used to give you every fucking kind of medicine just to have some sort of control over you! And they weren’t even real! They were fucking, what was the word you used Eds, my dear? Gazebos?"

He lets out a loud laugh at that.

"Fuck you asshole! It’s not funny! And again, that’s not my name"

"Ok Spaghetti"

"Neither"

"Edward?"

"God that’s awful!"

"Spaghedward?"

"Have you put together two of the ugliest name just to fucking annoy me?"

_God he knows me so well!_

"Nope! Anyway, at least you’ve managed to escape her! No one’s gonna try to control you anymore Eddie. We need to celebrate! What’s your poison?"

Eddie, now with a more miserable face - if possible - simply gestures Richie to serve him a glass of what he’s drinking too. Cheap whiskey is poured in Eddie’s glass, and he drowns it immediately, making a disgusted face after. Then he begins fidgeting with the glass, eyes cast down.

"Is everything ok man?"

"Fill it again"

"If I do you’re gonna tell me what the fuck is going on inside your dumb head?"

Eddie nods slowly and observe intently as his glass get filled one more time. Once again, he drinks it in one single gulp, than finally raises his gaze.

"I haven’t escape anything. Anything! Cause I fucking married my mom!"

"I’m sorry what? You’ve married your mom? Before or after her death?"

"Beep beep Richie! What the fuck are you saying? That’s not what I mean!"

"You staffed her and now you’re running a creepy motel?"

"Please Rich would you just shut the fuck up for a minute?" Yup! I’m shutting up but only cause you’ve called me Rich. Always loved it!

"Thanks! Now, I’ve not married my actual mom, I’m just saying that my wife is totally like her. And not just physically. Fucking overbearing, always telling me that I need to be careful cause I’m delicate, and I get sick very easily! And god I thought I loved her but probably it was just me replacing my mom and this is so fucked up! I’m fucked up really bad man! The worst part is that I actually though they were right, about me being this fragile! But after Mike’s call I’ve been remembering shits and now I can’t go back to live like that! I really can’t Rich, and... fuck! I think I need my inhaler now... I can’t breathe!"

Despite the mess that Eddie’s confession has made with Richie’s brain, he managed to compose himself and goes sitting right next to the panicking man, gently placing his hands over his cheeks.

"Eddie, Eds! Look at me! Look at me! - this kinda reminds me of something - It’s ok, all right! Just try to breath with me! Slowly... slowly! Ok take a deep breath, in... and out... ok another one, in... out... good, you’re doing great!"

After a couple of minutes Eddie’s breathing is back at his normal pace. He stares at Richie – still holding his face – from behind his lashes.

"Thank you Rich"

_Jesus fucking Christ! A man in his forties can’t be this fucking cute, if not hot! And why I’ve still got my stupid hands over his face, what the fuck?!_

Richie stares back at him, rapidly opening the "Jokes" folder stored inside his head and searching for something that could get him out of the slightly embarrassing situation he has thrown himself in.

_I want to kiss him._

And that is all it takes him to start functioning again. He lets his hands slide down Eddie’s face and put them inside his leather jacket's pockets.

"No problem Eds! I’m honored to be your knight in shining armor!"

"I’m not a fucking princess dick head!"

"Sure! So, does this happens to you a lot? I mean, I didn’t remember you had it this bad!"

"No but I remembered only this morning about the time I found out that my inhaler was pretty useless, if not completely fake."

"The gazebos issue"

"What? Anyway, the problem is that I’ve been using it since I can remember. And even if now I fucking know that is basically bullshit, I can’t stop thinking that I need it. Fuck, I hate this!"

Richie pats his shoulder.

“You know, if you have the same tastes of your sweet mom I know one things or two that will surely make you feel better, baby!”

He lifts one eyebrow and a malicious grin spreads all over his face when Eddie actually blush, probably due to the implications of what Richie has just said him.

“Beep beep Trashmouth! You’re not gonna get in my pants, you creep!”

_Oh my god Eds! I wish I could do it!_

"I have my ways Spaghetti! But if you’re not into it, then go find a talking animal to be friend with and sing a fucking cheesy and eternal song. That’s the way princess deal with shit! I can go buy you a sparkling dress if you want!"

Eddie actually laugh at this, and Richie’s dumb heart is on the verge of exploding.

"Shit, can you imagine it? Imagine It’s face the next time he comes to us and finds me with a fucking dress! Can you see it?"

Eddie begins giggling again.

"Oh I can see it, clear as day. You’ll be such a sassy and bitchy princess! But as entertaining as it is picturing you with that outfit may we go back to some more serious topic?"

"Dude, do we really need to?"

"Yeah! Can you please return to the part where you say that you don’t actually love your wife?"

Richie knows that he’s being selfish, but the knowledge that Eddie isn’t exactly in a loving relationship is the only thing that matters to him at the moment. He pours himself another glass of whiskey waiting for the other man to keep on with his explanation.

"God she’s a nightmare! Honestly? We no longer sleep in the same bed. She thinks it’s another health issue, and I thought it too, but now I assume that’s just me not wanting to sleep with her."

"Fuck man, you need to leave her!"

_Please leave her and come with me, I don’t care where! If you’re up to live in a wood house in the middle of a forest I won’t complain! Leave you’re fucking boring work and become my trophy husband!_

As the last though takes form in his mind Richie puts down the glass - _No more drinking tonight I guess._

"You know what? Maybe I’ll do it. But for now I need to focus on this clown thing we are on!"

"Yeah, seems fair to me"

"And you?"

"What do you want from me Eds?"

"I wanna know why you aren’t married, dikwad!"

_Cause I’ve never loved anybody but you? Apparently. Cause I’m a fucking closet case? I’m so gay and so scared of being outed that I haven’t gotten laid in months! Fuck! My career would be over! Probably after my last show it already is, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to have my big coming out!_

"Never feel like it? I had a few serious relationship but they ended really bad. From then on just a lot of one-night stands"

"Rich, a lot? Do they actually like you or are they after your money?"

"Money! No doubt! That and my giant dick!"

"You’re forty, for fuck's sake! Enough with the dumb dick jokes, asshole!"

"Hey, stop acting like a little bitch! I built up my career over dick jokes!"

"Excuse me but if I recall correctly, less than two hours ago you confessed that you don’t write your own lines!"

Another huge grin appears on Richie’s face. Sure, he had confessed it, and his ego had suffered a little bit – a lot! - from that; but the reminder of Eddie’s reaction is making him gloat.

"Lovely that you’ve brought up the matter, my pal! Cause you know, your reaction was kinda strange. You said, and I’m quoting you here man, ‘I fucking knew it!’. Time for some Spaghetti explanation!"

Eddie becoming red like his own sweater is basically the only thing Richie was aiming at. He stands up and crosses his arm, brows furrowed in annoyance. Richie’s grin turns into an open laugh.

"You watched my shows before! Are you a fan Eds? Want an autograph?"

"Fuck you bro! I’m not a fan! I happened to watch some of your comedy gigs and I though that they weren’t funny at all!"

Richie puts a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt.

"Oh! You wound me Eddie!"

"No, ok, what I was trying to say is that your lines weren’t funny but I always had this feeling that it wasn’t actually you the one writing them. Dunno why man, it was just a sensation."

After that Richie falls a little more in love with the shorter man.

_There’s no turning back. I’m gonna die in love with this asshole. We didn’t even remember each other and somehow he knew that it wasn’t really me. No one never suspected it. If he’s gonna tell me that he’s gay I will fucking have to murder him on spot, cause that would be the ultimate proof that I’m actually talking with fucking Pennywise! He would laugh at me then creep out from his ass, or mouth I don’t know, from one of Eddie’s fucking holes I assume! God what the fuck am I even thinking? I need to sleep._

"Oh, deep down neither you nor Mrs K could really forget me and how entertaining my big mouth could be, maybe for different reasons. But I’m touched Eds!"

"Fuck you! And don’t call me that!"

"Sure Spagheds. So, as far as I’m enjoying this intimate conversation, I’m tired as fuck and tomorrow’s a big day. Great shits are waiting for us. Let’s get to our rooms."

Eddie agrees and leads their way to the stairs. As he’s climbing the first steps, Richie finds himself thanking whoever divinity is actually looking down at him, cause he’s graced with the view of Eddie’s. Fucking. Perfect. Ass.

_This is the last thing I wanna see before dying! I’ll die like a happy man! Why the fuck is he so toned?! Again, he’s fucking forty, he shouldn’t be a walking wet dream!_

He slaps his face in order to regain some dignity. They reach their respective rooms and, after wishing goodnight to each other, Richie closes the door, throws himself on the bed and just lays there, waiting for the sleep to come and get him.

*

Richie’s sleep is restless. Nightmares follow one another waking him up at least every hour, shirt drenched in sweat and heart threatening to come out of his chest. He’s not sure if he’s actually dreaming or just remembering things. Even after he get up in the morning, fragments of those memories keep on tormenting him, apparently with no intention of quitting.

_Neibolt house. Missing poster. Three doors. Not scary at all. Clowns. Broken arm. Bowers. Sewers. Stan. Bev. Deadlights. Georgie. Bat. Piece of glass. Hands. Oath._

He joins the others with the uncomfortable sensation that something bad is going to happen to him over the day.

*

It turns out that the trip destination is their old clubhouse. Ben is the one who eventually finds it, or at least, the door collapses under his unaware feet bringing Ben down as well. Almost everything in there light up a memory inside Richie’s head, but the one that does the job better than anything is the old hammock.

_Fuck, I remember that. Eddie used to get mad every time cause I didn’t respect his stupid ten minutes rule. He would always yells at me like an angry little ball of fury. Then he would jump right in, kicking and bitching around. That was my ultimate goal. Be in the stupid hammock with Eds. I loved how I was able to touch him without exposing my true intentions. Don’t think we fit in there now. Fuck, that would be awesome. Maybe I can lure him into doing it otherwise. Also I wish he had those fucking red short shorts. God I died a little every time he wore them! Gonna ask him if he had kept them. Hammock and cheesy memory aside I still can’t understand why we’re down here._

After Bill finds the tin can where Stan used to put their shower cups, they’re free to climb out of the clubhouse. They ask Mike to explain what they’re supposed to do now, and apparently the key word for that is "remember".

"The past is buried. But you’re gonna have to dig it up. Piece by piece. And these pieces, these artifacts, that’s why we’re here. They are what you’ll sacrifice."

"Ok Mike, so where do we find our tokens?"

Richie intrudes before Mike can answer Eddie’s question.

"Yeah I gotta be honest, man, all due respect. This is fucking stupid, all right? Why do we need tokens, all right? We already remember everything. Saving Bev, defeating It… I mean we’re cough up!"

The other man sights and continues.

"It’s not everything. We fought It but what happened before the house on Neibolt?"

It looks like any of them is able to remember what happened that summer, or rather what happened in those moments in which they weren’t together. They have to think about it and try to actually remember something; that will also lead each one of them to their respective token. It goes out without saying that both Richie and Eddie are against the whole splitting up businesses, but Mike makes it clear: they must be alone. If not, they’re not gonna find what they’re looking for.

*

_“Richie fucking Tozier? What? You’re trying to bone my little cousin? Get the fuck out of here faggot!”_

That summer Richie had spent a substantial amount of time at the Arcade, playing Street Fighter with whoever was available. Eddie was grounded, and after his fight with Bill he had a lot of free time. On a particularly unfortunate day Richie was playing with none other than Henry Bowers’ cousin. He didn't know it, obviously, and after he suggested the boy to play one more round Bowers himself came in. Terrible words were yelled at Richie, forcing him to leave the Arcade. He ended up pitying himself on a bench at the park, and it was there that It had made his appearance. Richie got chased there for a while by the fucking giant Paul Bunyan statue. After retrieving his token from the Arcade – an actual token – Richie finds himself standing awkwardly near that same horrible statue. The place is really crowded due to the Canal Days Festival.

_I wasn’t even trying to hit on Bower’s fucking cousin. Just wanted to play for fuck's sake! Course he was kinda cute, but when your best friend is literally the cutest thing alive, there’s absolutely no contest! But I was so scared that everybody were gonna think that I was really gay. Scared that the other losers were going to find it, or to figured it out. I suspect that I’m still scared of that._

Suddenly a flier is shoved in his hand. “In memory of Richie Tozier” it says. It’s a fucking commemoration for his death. He’s astonished. The flier reminds him about the missing poster they found in Neibolt house when they where kids. It had scared him so much that it frequently appeared in his after-It-nightmares. And the thing that Richie is holding in his hands - basically just a piece of written paper - terrifies him as well as the missing poster used to do.

“Did you miss me Richie?”

He quickly raises his head towards the source of the voice. Pure fear begins to creep all over him when he sees the fucking clown with a bunch of red balloons sitting over the statue’s shoulder.

“Oh fuck!”

“No one wants to play with the clown anymore! Play a game with me would ya? How about Street Fighter? Oh yes you like that one don’t you? Or maybe Truth or Dare?”

“Jesus!”

Richie slowly backs off as Pennywise raises in the air and flies towards him.

“Oh you wouldn’t want anyone to pick truth tough, would ya Richie? Wouldn’t want anyone to know what you’re hiding! Should I tell them Richie?”

Then he begins humming these terrible lines over and over as he comes closer to Richie.

“I know your secret, your dirty little secret! Oh I know your secret, your dirty little secret!”

The knowledge that It is actually aware of Richie’s biggest fear scares him more than the clown himself. He runs away, but even after leaving the park those words won’t leave his scared mind.

_It know. It knows. It knows. It knows. It knows. Fuck!_

*

Richie’s next moments seems to be wrapped in a haze. He returns to the townhouse, Pennywise song still playing on the background - _What the fuck! Is this my personal soundtrack now?_ \- and no matter what Ben says to make Richie change his mind, he’s leaving. He’s going back to LA for real. After assuring Ben that he’s going to stay, he escapes from the back of the building, hops in the car and drives away.

_“I know your secret, your dirty little secret!”_

On his way out of the city, he passes near a church and as he slow down, a sudden memory flows back.

_Stan had his Bar Mitzvah here! Fuck he made that terrible speech about being a loser and not a man. Or more like not wanting to become a man and always remain a loser. I mean, it was awesome, but his fucking father must have hated it! A lot!_

_“Today I’m supposed to become a man. It’s funny tough. Everyone, I think, has some memories they’re prouder of than others, right? And maybe that’s why change is scary. Cause the things we wish we could leave behind, the whispers we wish we could silence, the nightmares we most want to wake up from, the memories we wish we could change, the secrets we feel we have to keep, are the hardest to walk away from. The good stuff? The pictures in our mind that fade away the fastest? Those pieces of you it feels the easiest to loose. Maybe I don’t want to forget. Maybe if that’s what today is all about, forget it, right? Today I’m supposed to become a man, but I don’t feel any different. I know I’m a loser, and no matter what. I always fucking will be.”_

Maybe is that Stan has always been more mature than them. He was a wise kid, in a certain way. Probably his presence would have make the difference, but the sole memory of his words slaps Richie out of his idiotic and egocentric behavior.

“Thanks for showing up Stanley”

*

He arrives at the library just in time to save Mike’s ass from fucking Henry Bowers. He hits him right in the head with and historic ax that is on display. He has the time to crack a stupid joke before trowing up on the pavement right next to Mike.

_Fuck I’ve just killed a person. Oh my god I killed Bowers. Wasn’t he already dead for Christ's sake? Why is he still fucking with us? I suppose he’s not going to do it anymore. I feel sick again._

In that moment the others – a part from Bill – walk in the room, and an extremely worked up Bev explain that the missing man is going alone to Neibolt to fight It. They head out of the library and begins walking toward the abandoned house. As Richie approaches Eddie he catches sight of a bandage covering his left cheek.

“Eds what the fuck happened to you?”

Eddie sights and turns facing his way, a mixture of fear and anger painted over his face.

“Bowers was in my room. He stabbed me”

“He fucking stabbed you? Eddie! What the fuck! Jesus! Are you ok?”

“I’m not ok Rich! I had a knife in my face!”

Richie dead stops in the middle of the street.

_Eddie was nearly killed. Eddie was nearly killed. Eddie was nearly killed._

“He could have killed you”

“Beep beep Richie”

“But it’s true! How the fuck did you escape?”

“I hided myself in the tub behind the shower curtain and I took out the knife from my face. Then I stabbed him”

“I’m astonished.”

“God don’t be an asshole!”

As they go back walking, Richie feels like he’d just received a punch in his stomach.

_I left and he was attacked by Bowers. He could have died and I wasn’t even there! Jesus! I’m really an asshole! I was ready to leave him there and never look back!_

As if sensing that something is off, Eddie put a hand on his elbow – in an intimate like way - and observes him from the side.

“You alright?”

“Eddie I was fucking leaving the city and you almost died. Maybe if I was there...”

“Don’t fucking say it, dick head! Ok, I’m kinda upset that you were really gonna leave. But even if you were at the townhouse nothing would have changed! I was in my bathroom washing myself from the fucking leaper’s vomit! I would have been alone otherwise. So please stop pitying yourself!”

“Leaper’s vomit?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it, man!”

“Ok, sure Spagheds”

For a while they walk in a tense silence, the weight of the knowledge that Richie could have been at the airport by know floating between them. Eddie is predictably the one who breaks the silence first.

“Were you really gonna leave without even saying goodbye?”

“Eds I freaked out. I got scared. I met the fucking clown at the park earlier”

“Fuck. What has he done to you?”

Richie sighs deeply

“Listen Eddie. Pennywise… he… let’s say that he knows something about me.”

“Like a secret?”

_Your dirty little secret._

“Kind of. I think is something that would make you hate me.”

“I already hate you Rich!”

“Spaghetti, my dear, I know both you and your deceased mom adore me, no need to pretend it isn’t true.”

“Ah ah. Very funny asshole!”

“I’m sorry Eddie. I’m sorry I tried to leave.”

“It’s ok dickwad. Just… you don’t have to tell me, your secret I mean, if don’t wanna do it. But you know, I won’t hate you, more than what I already do obviously. We’re friends. Actually, and it’s kinda sad and pitiful, I think that you’re still my best friend.”

And sure, maybe it’s sad that Eddie doesn’t have a lot of friends at home. Maybe neither one. And it’s undoubtedly pitiful. Well, it would be if Richie’s social situation wasn’t exactly the same.

_God Eddie. It’s the same for me. You were and you are my best friend. Not that I have real friends back in LA. Just people I meet at parties who wanna be able to tell their friends that they know Richie Tozier. That is fucking pitiful!_

“Jesus Eds, you don’t get invited to many parties, do you?"

“Beep fucking beep Richie!”

“Ok, that’s fair. You were throwing your cheesy feelings at me and I acted like a jerk!”

“I was just being kind! Asshole!”

“I know Eddie, I know.”

“Actually, there’s something I wanna tell you, after this.”

“Bold of you to assume that we’re gonna get out alive!”

Eddie lets out a small laugh.

“Ok, well, let’s say that if we manage to save our shitty asses, then I’m gonna tell this thing to you”

They share a smile and catch up with the others. The group arrives in front of Neibolt house just in time to stop Bill from entering on his own and probably die trying to defeat Pennywise.

*

They’re standing near the entrance of the hole in which Mike is descending, the hole that will lead them to It mansion, the place where they’re going to perform the ritual. Eddie is clearly shaken, proved by the last events. After entering the house they got separated. Richie, Eddie and Bill got trapped in a room where Stan’s fucking head – provided whit creepy and disgusting crab like legs - came out of a fridge and tried to kill Richie. Eddie remained stuck in a corner, paralyzed by fear and Bill yelled at him. In the end, not the greatest moment of the day. After an absolutely pleasant and relaxing walk in the sewers, they reached the place where they defeated It years before – at least they though they have. Bev got dragged underwater by a scary naked granny, but they managed to save her.

“You guys, I can’t do it.”

As Bill follows Mike down the hole, Richie turns his attention to Eddie.

“I can’t, you saw what happened up there. I was gonna let you die. I just fucking froze up! If you let me go down there with you, I’m gonna get us all killed!”

He pulls out his damn inhaler from the pocket of his sweater and takes some puffs. Richie shots forward and tries to take it away from him.

“Hey hey hey, give me that! Let go you little turd”

Eddie finally lets go and looks at him with a miserable face.

“Listen to me. You had a moment. Fine. But who killed a psychotic clown before he was fourteen?”

The other man hesitates for a while before responding his question.

“Me”

“Who stabbed Bowers with a knife he pulled out of his own face?”

“Also me”

“Who married a woman ten times his own body mass?”

“Me”

“Yeah”

Richie says with a small smile, putting his hand over Eddie’s shoulder.

“You’re braver than you think.”

“Tanks Rich”

As Richie approaches the hole, Bev walks past him and offers Eddie the fence post she had collected outside the house.

“Here, take it. It kills monsters”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, if you believe it does”

*

The ritual doesn’t work, and it wasn’t supposed to work at all. It turns out that Mike was hiding them the unpleasant truth. He lied cause – as he tries to explain – differently than what the Shokopiwah people had done, they needed to believe that It could be actually killed. They run as fast as they can to hide and save themselves from It’s attack. The clown has transformed himself into this huge spider like creature, and the deadlights are floating in a circle over him. Richie and Eddie got stuck at the end of a tunnel with three familiar doors as their only escape route. Very scary. Scary. Not scary at all. Hard choice.

_Fuck, not this shit again! Not gonna fall for it this time!_

They do fall into It’s trap, two times, but as they’re ready to open the third door the tentacle that was chasing them retreats, and they’re free to go back and search for the others. As Richie emerges he catches It in the middle of trying to eat Mike alive, and in a rush of braveness – foulness - he throws a rock against him and begins running his mouth.

“Hey fuckface!”

Mike gets not so gracefully thrown against a wall of the cavern.

“Wanna play Truth or Dare? Here’s a truth. You’re a sloppy bitch! Let’s dance! Yipee-ki-yay...”

Richie gets caught in the deadlights. He doesn’t know if he’s dead, but it feels as if it is actually happening. His conscience seems to be dragged away, destroyed piece by piece. Does he still have a body? Images follows one another at a dizzying speed.

_Bill killed in a car accident. Bev beaten to death. Ben shooting himself in the head. His parents crying for his death. Mike buried alive. Eddie killed by his own medicines. Young Stan eaten alive by the creepy woman of his father drawing. Patrick Hockstetter in the sewers. Bev choked by her dad. Bill killed instead of Georgie, his arm ripped off. Eddie killed by the leaper cause he didn’t managed to escape. Mrs K. poisoning Eddie’s food. Mike thrown in a canal. Stan cutting his wrists. A giant turtle swimming in the waters of the Quarry. Ben hanging himself in his house. Henry Bowers killing his own father._

The visions seem to never get to an end. Richie can’t tell how long he’s been there, minutes, hours, even days. Years? It could be. But suddenly he feels like he’s falling down, and after a few seconds he hits the ground hard. Richie opens his eyes but for a while all he’s able to see is a blinding white light. Then he hears a voice and feels the weight of someone towering over him.

“Rich!”

_Eddie?_

“Hey Rich, wake up! Hey!”

Slowly the white light dissolves leaving space to the image of Eddie himself, worried and excited.

“Yeah there he is, buddy! Hey Richie, listen! I think I got him, man! I think I killed It! I did, I think I killed It for real!”

But there’s no room for words anymore, cause Eddie gets impaled by one of It’s legs. Richie watch his friend in disbelief, blood already pouring from his mouth and fresh wound. Eddie’s hands cling onto the thing that’s piercing him like it’s nothing, in the same way a fucking needle pierces an earlobe.

“Rich”

It then retreats his leg and violently throws Eddie’s wounded body across the cavern. He hits the ground and starts rolling, stopping at the bottom of a sheltered space hidden trough the wall. This is what Richie needs to fully wake up from his deadlights’ trance. Him and the others rush towards the hole, dodging It’s attacks on the way. They reach Eddie and carefully roll him over. The hole is fucking huge. Dark blood pouring out of it.

_That damn hole is huge. Christ! Why there’s all this blood already? Fuck. Oh god. We need to take him away. We need to take him outta here!_

Richie takes his jacket off and presses it over the wound.

“He’s hurt. He’s hurt really bad! We gotta get him out of here!”

It isn’t an easy task, cause Pennywise is blocking the entrance of the cave they’re in, and he’s fucking enormous. As they try to figure out what to do, Eddie tells that back at pharmacy – where he collected his token – he almost killed It, the leaper. He had put his hands around his throat and he was sure It was actually choking.

“I made him small. He seems so weak”

This gives the other a hint to build up a semblance of a plan. If they can reach the entrance of the cavern, It will have to make himself smaller if he wants to fit through the tunnel. In that form they’re gonna be able to kill him. “All living things must abide the laws of the shape they inhabit”. Bev leads their way through a tunnel, Richie and Bill carrying an extremely weak Eddie, and they hide themselves waiting for the right moment to run towards the entrance. Eddie needs to be putted down for a while, and they lay him to rest against a wall. His eyes keep on closing, more frequently and for longer. Richie sits right in front of him.

“Hey!”

“Hey, Richie? I gotta tell you something”

“What? What’s up buddy?”

“I fucked your mother”

Eddie begins laughing and coughing at the same time.

_I can’t believe this asshole chose this fucking moment to crack a your mother joke. Unbelievable. I really love him. Jesus!_

In the meantime the others attempt to get to the entrance of the cavern. They run as fast as they can but It eventually stops them, putting himself in front of their target. It feels like they’re going to die, there’s nothing else they can do. Except that there is. Years of being bullied had probably taught the losers a few things. There’s more than one way to make someone small: make him believe that he is. And that’s exactly what they start to do, basically shouting mean things to It.

“You’re just a clown!”

“Impostor!”

“You’re a mimic!”

“You’re a fucking bully!”

It’s face twists in anger as he understands that the losers are becoming less and less scared by him as the words leave their mouth. He shifts from one another, probably thinking that he will still be able to scare at least one of them. But it doesn’t work, and Pennywise begins to backward and actually becoming smaller.

“Clown! A dumb fucking clown!”

Richie’s voice joins the others, his loud mouth actually useful for once. He really doesn’t want to leave Eddie there alone, but their friends needs him. He searches the other man’s eyes for his approval, then stands and gets to the center of the cavern. There It’s crawling on the pavement, becoming smaller and smaller as they voices turn louder.

_You fucking hurt him! Fucking clown! I’m gonna kill you for well this time!_

Richie comes closer and angrily rips off one of It’s legs. After a few seconds, the clown turns even smaller. Now he’s just a vapid little creature, scared and alone, powerless. Mike approaches him and rips his heart right out of his little chest. Each one of the others put a hand over it, and they start crashing Pennywise’s evil heart. It beats furiously under their pressure until it eventually stops. And just like that a twenty seven years old fight is finally over. The evil entity that has traumatized their childhood. The one that made them forget each other. Forget everything they’ve done together before and after his arrival. Forget what was like being a kid and being a loser. The one that had make them forget who they really were. It’s all over. The things they’ve finally remembered, the things they’ve discovered, what they’ve felt in the last hours. No one, nothing is gonna take them away. Cause they’ve done it. For real this time. They’ve just killed It.

After a few moments Richie regains himself.

“Eddie”

He cross the cavern fast, reaching his friend in just a few steps and then kneels down in font of him.

“Eddie, we got Pennywise man!”

What comes in respond is just a whisper.

“...elly? Good”

“Eds, we need to get you outta here, all right”

“...chie?”

Richie puts a hand over his wounded cheek and gets closer to him, cause he’s barely able to hear anything.

“Yes?”

“...omething I wanna tell you”

“Yeah, sure, you fucked my mom. Save your breath for something actually important and useful. Like breathing!”

“...nna tell you”

“Ok, fine, tell me, you little stubborn man.”

There’s a moment in which Richie thinks that Eddie won’t tell him anything. He lightly breath in and out for a while, than lets out just two words. Probably only Richie can hear them.

“...you Rich”

After that Eddie closes his eyes.

For a while, none of them dare to say a word.

“Eddie”

Bev puts a hand over Richie’s shoulder.

_Please don’t die Eds! Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die. I’m begging you, you little asshole! Don’t leave me alone! Please Eddie!_

“He’s gone”

“He’s alright, he’s just hurt! We gotta get him outta here. He’s just hurt. Ben!”

He turns around looking at his friends. A very tiny part of him is well aware that he’s denying the obvious, but he won’t just admits that his Eddie is far gone to be saved. That’s not what his mind in planning to do.

“Bill he’s just hurt! We gotta get him outta here. Bev!”

Bev’s eyes are already full of tears.

“Richie”

“What?”

“Honey, he’s dead. We have to go, come on Richie.”

He turns around again, carefully places Eddie’s head over his own shoulder and hugs him. He know that the others are yelling things at him, but the only thing he can feel is Eddie’s body against his.

_Fuck Eddie! Please don’t leave me alone! Open your eyes and they will help me get you outta here! Please! Fuck! If you don’t open your stupid eyes I’m gonna stay here with you! I’m not gonna leave, asshole!_

But he’s not allowed to stay there, cause the place is collapsing and his friends are trying really hard to pull him away. Eventually they managed to separate them and get Richie standing on his own feet. They start dragging him towards the entrance. Through the whole way back he keep on screaming and trying to free himself to get back.

“We can still help him guys! We can still help him!”

It’s a miracle they succeed on escaping alive. They run into Neibolt street then turn and watch as the house totally crash over itself, Richie still screaming.

“We gotta get in there and get him! He’s still in there! Eddie! Eddie!”

_Eddie!_

*

**One month later**

Richie wakes up several times that night. It’s the clear proof that he can’t sleep if not totally wasted. He can’t do it anymore. He can’t say if he’s having just simple nightmares or if he’s seeing pieces of what the deadlights showed him. Just like Beverly had experienced twenty seven years before, Richie has seen all of his friend die – and even something more. He moves the blanket away and gets up, heading towards the living room. There he opens greedily his liquor cabinet, takes out an expensive bottle of Bourbon and throws himself on the sofa - no need for a glass. He shift awkwardly in his clothes; apparently he’d gone to bed without changing them first, and he’s still wearing a pair of jeans and one of his oldest button-up, the yellow one with the stupid pineapples over it. But that’s not Richie’s first problem at the moment. He’s been having problems sleeping since he came back to LA. Richie took the first flight available and literally runs away from Derry, not standing the view of his friends anymore.

_They’ve made me leave him down there. Keep on saying that they were trying to save me, but who the fuck asked them to do it? I certainly didn’t. Better to be dead than live like this. How am I fucking supposed to live knowing that I basically killed Eddie and that I even left him down there?!_

He takes a huge gulp at that memory. If he had been more careful about the deadlights thing nothing bad would have happened. Richie keeps on torturing himself every fucking day, blaming his attempt to save Mike for what happened to his friend. The others explained him what Eddie did: he had thrown the fence post Beverly gave him right into It’s open mouth - “Beep beep motherfucker!”. He takes another big gulp.

_I shouldn’t have told him he was brave. I made a mistake, I made lots of mistakes. Eddie’s dead. He payed for my mistakes._

Sometimes at night he goes on the balcony and sits there, gazing at the sky. There are times when Richie feels like he’s at the center of the world, as if the stars were the eyes of others looking at him, and he can actually feel them on his fragile skin. Other times instead, the knowledge that he’s no one, that his problems and his feelings are just dust in the wind, crashes him so hard that he feels lost. He wishes he could find comfort into looking at the sky, wishes he could believe that Eddie is somewhere up there. But as the stars look back at him he knows that there’s no relief for him up in the sky, cause Eddie is buried under Neibolt house. And if Richie really wants to feel closer to him the only thing he can do is looking at the ground. How poetic.

_I wish I was down there with you. I wish I died with you. Wish you were able to tell me that thing._

Cause Eddie in the end didn’t managed to say that thing to Richie, in the end, he’d just said his name. That was probably the thing he planned to tell him after defeating the clown. And Richie’s worst regret is that he wasn’t brave enough to confess his feelings to Eddie.

_He will never know. Never know how much I love him, how fucking much I cared about him when we were kids. He will never know anything of that, cause I’m a coward and I fucking killed him!_

He begins sobbing and keeps drinking in the meanwhile, tears rolling down his cheeks and mixing with the drops of Bourbon that escape his mouth. He feels miserable. He is miserable.

_I wanna play Truth or Dare. I really want to._

He drowns the entire bottle, then stands and assaults the cabinet again. Richie opens and drinks everything that comes under his hands. He doesn’t even return on the sofa, just stays there, sitting on the ground looking at the emptied bottles as if they’re the answers of all his questions. He drowns a bottle, actually looks inside it - _come on! At least a fortune cookie!_ \- and when he sees that nothing can be found inside it, he takes the next one and starts again. He goes on like this for hours, barely conscious of his actions. The small part of Richie’s mind that’s not actually wasted is busy trying to understand if the pain he’s feeling is only emotive or physical too.

_How the fuck is possible that this shit hurts like this?! I just wanna sleep..._

As these last thoughts escapes his mind, Richie slowly slips on the floor, an unfinished bottle still in his hand. Everything turns black.

*

The next time Richie opens his eyes he’s standing in the middle of nothing. Everything around him is black.

_So... ok, I can see my hands so I’m not blind, and let’s say that I’m not even in a completely dark place. What the fuck is this? Black void? Has someone kidnapped me? This doesn’t feel like my house at all! Should I walk around and find clues? Or maybe it’s a trap. Am I the knew main character of fucking Truman Show? This sucks! Am I so wasted that I’m having this insane trip over my living room pavement?_

“Hey! Is somebody there?”

Nobody answers him.

“Hey! What the fuck am I supposed to do here?!”

“You’re going to go back”

“Fuck!!”

Suddenly a deep voice echoes trough the space. Richie turns around frantically, searching for its source, but nobody’s there.

"Who the fuck are you asshole? Where are we?!"

It takes a while every time before receiving an answer. Maybe the voice comes from a distant place, and its echo actually needs a few second to reach Richie.

"You can call me Maturin"

"Ok, all right. Is that a gangster name or some other shit?"

"I’m not human"

"Jesus! I’m sick of all this alien bullshit! Are you It’s older brother or something like that? He was your friend and now you’re here to complete his mission? Are you gonna kill me? Cause I’m not stopping you! Go ahead!"

"This is nonsense Richie. I’m not his friend. In the past It tried to kill me, but I didn’t died on spot. And sure, now I’m slowly dying, but I’ve got some power left."

"I know that this is just an alcohol induced dream, but I need to ask you something at this point, cause I can’t fucking understand anything. Why am I here?"

Richie is becoming highly exasperated, and this Maturin here isn’t helping at all. He slaps his face, pulls his hair, tries everything he can think off to wake himself up, but nothing works. The creature’s response takes a little longer to arrive.

"I watched all of you defeating It. I’m weak, so I wasn’t able to help you. I was just a spectator. But now, I’m gonna give you a possibility to repair the damage."

"What damage? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Somebody died, and it wasn’t meant to be. The past must be changed"

_If this shit is really just a dream I’m gonna wake up pretty pissed tomorrow! Is he saying what I think he’s saying? He’s going to take me back so I can save Eddie? I should be fucking cynic about this whole thing, but just a month ago I fought an alien clown, for the second time I should add, so... I think this could be real as well. I really hope it is._

"Are you gonna take me back under Neibolt house? If that’s the case, I know what to do. I just need to be careful with those damn deadlights! It could work!"

"I can’t take you back there"

"Then where?"

"Not where. When"

"What the fuck does it mean?"

"I can take you back in time, but in the last years I’ve been too weak, I need to take you back at a time when I was more powerful. You’re gonna find your younger self and instruct him. You can’t say anything about this at the others. Good luck"

"No wait a fucking minute! Which year are you gonna send me to asshole?!"

*

**Autumn 1988**

Richie opens his eyes and the black void is nowhere to be found. He’s standing in the middle of a street, an empty street. The only things he’s sure about are that he’s back in Derry, and that is daytime, cause the sun is shining brightly in the sky. He actually enjoys the heat and the little breeze that’s caressing his tired face and ruffling his hair. Richie observe the houses on the street: from a window he can see a kid having breakfast with his parents; a man, on the other side of the road, opens his front door and gets out with a middle sized dog, probably for his morning walk.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Stupid Maturin! Gonna go to my old street and wait for... me, I think, to come around. This shit is insane, also, every fucking film involving time travel I’ve seen clearly specify that you must avoid your past self! And I’m gonna talk to him! I’m probably going insane!_

He begins walking towards his old house, trying to be as discrete as he can. He’s just ten minutes away from it, but he gradually increases his speed, searching his surroundings in a slight frantic way. He needs to find his younger self, and he need to do it as fast as possible. This desperate urge is creeping all over him, leaving Richie in a daze. At some point he completely throws away his logic of “keep a low profile” and runs down the road, getting breathless in just a few seconds.

_Fuck! Jesus! My manager was fucking right, I should have gone to the gym, or done some silly sporty like activity made up to entertain rich people! I’m gonna die! This is some hilarious shit! Survives a mad-alien-serial-killer-clown but dies from jogging! That would be fucking funny!_

He eventually gets to his house in five minutes. He stops just a few feet away - bent foreword, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Suddenly Richie hears a noise in the distance, probably a bike coming from the street behind him. Without even turning back, he throws himself behind the bushes in the garden of the house next to his one.

_God I fucking hope the owner won’t come out right know. I’m to old for this shit, and I’m sure I look like a dodgy man right now! Please, stay in your house for a while. I don’t even remember who the fuck used to live here._

From his position, Richie is able to see the entrance of his house. The bike is coming closer, and after a while it stops right a few feet from him. Richie’s heart jumps in his chest, cause no matter how many years have passed – Pennywise influence on their memories gone by now – he could never forget what his best friend looks like. Eddie – his thirteen years old self, probably - gets down from his bike and slightly turns to look in his direction, more or less. Brows furrowed, he seems kind of suspicious about something. He’s wearing his yellow polo, actually one of Richie’s favorite and he can feel a knot forming in his stomach at the though that that little guy is going to die in only twenty seven years.

_He really was a cute kid. Cute cute cute. And he doesn’t know but he’s gonna die, saving my stupid ass. I fucking need to tell him! He will surely freak out and get a full asthma attack, or, well, a panic attack. But he will know, and he will be safe!_

Then suddenly the front door of the Tozier house opens and a kid with big coke bottle glasses and an obnoxious red button-up covered in little green palms storms out. It is strange indeed, actually more than strange, to be able to see yourself the same way the others do. Richie is staring at his young self, and he can see everything. He can see the perfect target for a group of terrible bullies, the loud kid – Trashmouth! - never shutting up, always cracking jokes, the same kid who only wants to make his friends laugh. He can see the scared boy who’s hiding a dirty little secret. And god, the way he looks at Eddie the moment he spots him!

_How the fuck the others never noticed it it’s a mystery. I was so obvious, for Christ's sake! God it’s so fucking embarrassing! Get a grip on yourself you idiot! No wonder Bowers used to address me with all those sweet names he came up with! It’s fucking obvious that you have it bad for Eddie!_

Richie slaps a hand over his face, felling highly embarrassed by past-Richie and the look he’s throwing at Eddie.

“Eds, my man! Were you waiting for me?”

Eddie blatantly rolls his eyes.

“You’re lucky I’ve just arrived, and don’t call me that!”

Richie takes his bike and mounts on it.

“Sure Eds! Now let’s go, don’t wanna make the ladies wait for me!”

“No one’s waiting for you, dick head! The only one who did it was Bowers and now he’s gone!”

“You jealous all those pretty girls are after me Eddie?”

“Shut up asshole!”

They keep on bickering as they ride away from Richie’s house.

_That was awful! Jesus! As soon as he comes back from school I’m gonna tell him that he’s not being as subtle as he wish to. He stands up and cleans himself from some leaves and dirt, then turns looking at the street, assuring that no one’s around. And now? What am I supposed to do while he’s at school? Thank you very much and fuck you Maturin! You couldn’t take me back in the evening, uh? No fucking way I’m gonna go creep around the city. Just need my parents... his parents? God! Our parents to leave the house for work. I’m gonna wait for the little asshole in his room. Great idea!_

Richie hides carefully in the backyard of his house, and waits until he hears Went and Maggie Tozier leave. It’s strange, cause he doesn’t have a good relationship with them – in his present – and now he has the actual opportunity to meet them, meet them as they were when, all things considered, Richie actually loved them. It’s a once in a lifetime occasion, but he decide against it, shutting his eyes - hands into fist – when they get on the car and leave. He needs a moment before he fells enough calm to stand again and head to the backdoor. They used to lock it only at nigh.

_No burglars in Derry, just serial-killer-creatures-coming-from-space! What a paradise!_

Richie goes straight upstairs, where his old room is. He doesn’t want to indulge into traveling trough every good memory the other rooms could evoke, cause he surely doesn’t have enough strength to do it. He stops at the entrance and just looks around. Everything is the way he remembers it was: tees and loudly patterned button-ups spread all over the floor, comics left half reed on his night stand. His old desk is covered in school notebook and papers. It’s funny to notice that Richie’s house in LA is even messier than his old room. More space to be messy in, probably.

_I’m starting to think that I’m not the functioning adult I convinced myself to be. Fuck, let’s just be honest, I’m far gone from being a functioning adult! I don’t even make my own meals anymore, come on! If Eddie had seen how dirty my house is he would have scolded me so hard! Bitching around about mold and infection, and how dust is dangerous for my breathing system and other shit like that. God, that would be fucking hilarious! I’m sure he would also do that chopping thing he use to do with his hand! He was such an asshole that sometimes he made us forget it was just his way of showing that he cared. It was so cute!_

A tight laugh escapes Richie’s lips and then he’s crying. He begins sobbing hard, images of the future he and Eddie could have shared – or not, he will never know – stab him like the sharpest of the knife would do. He goes sitting at the bottom of his old bed, throwing his glasses aside and covering his face with his big hands. Richie’s shaking a lot, and keeps on making this pitiful noises, that fill the room and echo trough the walls. He lets himself fall into a lying position, and continue crying until he’s exhausted and falls into a deep sleep.

*

_“Rich! Hey Rich, wake up! Hey!”_

_“Yeah there he is, buddy! Hey Richie, listen! I think I got him, man! I think I killed It! I did, I think I killed It for real!”_

Richie wakes up with a start, nearly falling from the bed. For a few moments he’s confused about his surroundings, cause he’s sure he’s still under Neibolt house. His heart is pounding very fast, and for some seconds he finds hard breathing at a normal pace. When he reminds where he actually is and understands that he was just dreaming, Richie calms a little.

_Fuck! I hate that nightmare! I’m sick of seeing Eddie die all over again every time I sleep! It will eventually destroy me, for fuck's sake! Now… what the fuck I was doing before falling asleep? Oh yeah, waiting for the little brat to come back… oh my god! How much have I slept?!_

He storms out of the room, runs down the stairs and heads to the back door. Richie has just the time to go out in the backyard when he hears two familiar voices getting closer to the house.

“… telling you there was a creepy man behind the bushes!”

“Eds you’re fucking paranoid! Maybe he was just pissing? Have you thought about it?”

“I’m actually thinking about how much stupid you can be! He wasn’t pissing! I told you he was laying on the ground!”

Richie stays in the backyard, just listening to the two of them bickering about him, and he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t notice that they’re coming right in his direction. Richie turns around as fast as he can, looking for a place to hide himself. He’d just spotted a nice one when someone yells, and he’s forced to turn again.

“It’s him! It’s him! I told you, asshole! He’s the creepy man!”

Richie ignores Eddie for a moment, cause he’s busy staring at his young self, straight in the eyes. If looking at him in the distance that morning was strange, this is on a whole different level of awkwardness.

_I’m gonna explode, I’m sure! This is bullshit, all due respect Maturin! We’re both gonna melt on the ground or just vanish, cause you must not meet yourself while time traveling! Everyone knows it, come on! It’s like the first rule!_

But nothing happens, in the end, and as Eddie keep on shouting in the background, Richie tries to approach his past self, who’s being strangely silent.

“Hi Richie, I’m…uh... you know what? Never mind! I’m here cause I need to talk to you”

He begins to get closer, walking really slowly towards him, the way you do when you’re around a tiny and easily frightened animal. Suddenly Eddie shots forward and physically puts himself between the two of them. Then, he angrily points a finger at him – a trembling finger – while his left hand goes grabbing his funny pack – _don’t tell me you’ve still got that stupid inhaler!_

“Don’t fucking come near him, weirdo! Richie’s parents are gonna come back in minutes, so you better leave!”

Richie has to admit that, in a strange and fucked up way, he’s quietly enjoying the situation. Eddie is obviously lying just to make him go away. Guess what? It’s not going to work.

“Eh… no. I’m sure they’re not!”

“Oh… and how do you know it? Have you been spying on Richie? Oh my god! You were monitoring his habits? Are you a fucking pedo?!”

“What? No, I’m not! What the fuck are you even saying? I just need to talk to him for a”

“No! Don’t you dare come closer, or touch him, or whatever you wanna do to him! Leave Rich alone or I will… I… I’ll kill you, ok?!”

As these last words leave his mouth, Eddie backs off a little and takes Richie’s hand in his own, - his funny pack completely forgotten - his little finger still pointing at the “creepy man”. Both present and past Richie blush furiously, the younger one staring at his hand in disbelief, mouth slightly open.

_Oh my fucking god! This little brat is so cute! Cute cute cute! He’d always been so fucking brave! I could really be a pedo for what he knows, and he’s still trying to protect my dumb little self! And you! Get a grip on yourself and say something! I know he’s holding you hand and probably your brain is seriously damaged by now, but we need to talk! Snap out of it!_

“Let’s just calm down, ok? I don’t wanna hurt him, I just need to talk to him about something important!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!”

“God! This is exasperating! Look, Richie! I’m you, ok? I come from the future, and we need to talk. Now!”

Eddie finally shout his mouth and starts looking alternatively between his best friend and this stranger that’s claiming to be Richie’s future self. It’s the other one’s turn to speak, finally.

“My future self? And how the fuck can I know that you really are? Maybe you’re Pennywise, or someone he has sent here to kill us, to finish his work! I’m not gonna fall for this bullshit!”

“Come on! Pennywise? He’s creepy and all, I’m gorgeous and funny. He wishes he could be me! I’m you, come on! Glasses? Fashionable button-ups? Messy hair? Doesn’t ring a bell? We’re the same, I’m just taller and older. That’s it!”

“Honestly? He resembles you, in a certain way!”

Eddie interrupts them again, and stares at – adult - Richie with curios eyes. It seems that he’s beginning to believe what Richie is saying.

_Fuck, could you stop staring at me? God! This is becoming a fucking nightmare! I just need to tell Richie what to do in the future, but it’s gonna be hard to do it if we keep on this way!_

“Jesus! About time! Thank you Eds!”

“Don’t call m”

“Don’t call him that!!”

Young Richie’s face gets all red and he comes closer to him, hands in fist.

_God! I forget how jealous I used to get when someone else called Eddie Eds!_

“Cool down, brat! I’m you, so isn’t it normal for me to call him like that?”

“He doesn’t like it! So stop doing it asshole!”

“Stop it? You two will make me seek! Enough with this bullshit! We need to talk now, I haven’t got much time!”

“I still don’t believe you!”

“Oh Richie, you wound me! Ok, you know what? I’m gonna tell Eddie where you keep your dirty magazines, and we’re gonna go and check all together! If I’m right, then you’re finally gonna believe me, righ?”

Young Richie’s eyes comically grow behind his glasses! He grabs Richie’s elbow and drags him towards the back door.

_I should have thought about this before! We would have speared a lot of precious time!_

“Eds, stay here! I’m gonna have a talk with this dude and come back right after! Just, don’t go away!”

Richie manages to see Eddie nods a couple of time before he’s dragged inside and lead upstairs. They enters Richie’s room and he closes the door behind them, then look at each other awkwardly for a moment. After a while Richie breaks the silence and starts with his explanation, or at least he tries to do it, but he’s immediately interrupted by young Richie.

“Do you really know where I hide them?”

“Sure. In the back of the closet, under those two sweater that you never wear. And I also know that those half naked girls aren’t what you actually enjoy to observe.”

“You’re really me, uh?”

“Yes, I am. But now you need to listen to me very carefully, ok?”

As the guy nods, Richie leads them to the bed, they sit and he begins to sum up the events of the previous month. He explain him everything, from them forgetting each other after leaving Derry to their reunion at the Jade of the Orient. He tells him about the ritual, about the tokens issue, and they digress for a while arguing about how tall the Paul Bunyan Statue was when it chased them, and how Bower’s cousin wasn’t so cute in the end. At a certain point young Richie asks him about his career, and he’s forced to confess the unpleasant truth. He makes him promise to never let someone else write in his place - “Cause we’re funny, aren’t we?”. He finds very hard talking about the deadlights – he doesn’t tells Richie what he saw there, that will be to much – but it gets even harder when he has to talk about Eddie. And his death. Richie stops a couple of times, cause he feels like trowing up and his younger self is becoming very pale. When he’s finished, they’re both crying. Richie tries to restrain himself, tries to look strong, he really does, but he’d never said any of those things out loud. Never told anyone about Eddie’s death. He puts an arm around young Richie’s shoulder as he rubs his eyes teary under his glasses. They stay just like this for a while, and Richie looks fondly at this kid, who’s bullied for what he is, for what he looks like, for his dumb jokes and his coke bottle glasses. For being a loser. He wishes he could comfort him in some way, offers a few reassuring words, but they would be a bunch of lies. He’s forty and barely nothing has changed from the times he was this little guy, who’s now sitting next to him. He’s still scared that if he exposes his true self, people would hate him. And that leads him to some heavy issue.

“Ok, you have to try to keep in contact with the others, at least with one of them. Find a way to leave Derry together, I don’t know. If nothing changes and you still forget, then you’re probably gonna remember our conversation the moment you come back. If everything goes the same way you fucking need to stay away from that damn deadlights! Or at least don’t stare right at them! Also I don’t think you can tell these things at the others. Do you understand everything?”

“Yeah. But what if I get caught in them anyway?”

“Ok, in that case I assume you need to move Eddie out of the way as soon as you get to the ground”

Young Richie just nods a few times, staring at his hands.

“There is another thing that you have to do.”

“You mean down in Neibolt house or before that?”

“I mean right now, or this week, this month, this year. Just, don’t keep it to yourself. You’ll regret it!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Richie catches a deep breath, then looks straight in the eyes of his young self.

“You need to tell Eddie how you feel about him. I’ve never get to say it to him. I had plenty of opportunities, both when I was a kid and a when we meet again a month ago. But I was afraid, I was scared that he would hate me. That the other losers would hate me”

“He would! I can’t tell him!”

The kid is having something similar to a panic attack – _come on Richie, this is Eddie’s thing, not yours!_ \- and Richie places a hand over his soft cheek, making him turning his way again.

“No, he won’t! I promise you he won’t hate you for that! Listen to me! Everyday form when we killed It I wake up alone in my stupid expensive house, and the only things I can feel are anger, cause the other made me leave him down in Neibolt house. Anger and regret, cause he’s dead and I never told him that I love him! I still love him but he’s gone! Listen to me, if you do everything right maybe in my time Eddie will survive. If he does, the first thing I’m gonna do is fucking trow my cheesy feelings at him! Or maybe I won’t see him otherwise, I don’t fucking understand how this time travel shit works! I don’t know how things will be in your future, but you have to be sure you tell him! Believe me, you’ll hate yourself if you don’t do it and he dies. I hate myself so hard! Please, promise me! Richie, promise me you’ll do it!”

As he finish his emotional speech, a single tear crosses his face and rest just a moment on his chin before falling and landing over the hand that’s resting on his legs. His young self follows its path, then slowly raises his head and looks straight in Richie’s eyes. He nods three times, then trows himself at Richie and hugs him tightly – and slightly desperately. He’s a little bit surprised, but eventually hugs him back, just for a while.

“You know, Eddie’s still down there, probably being all paranoid about me up here killing you or something like that. You should go!”

“You’re right. He’s gonna be all bitchy with me when I come down, cause I left him alone in the backyard.”

“Why did you two come in the backyard in the first place?”

“Forgot my fucking keys!”

“Of course you did!”

They get up from the bed and head to the door. As they get closer to the kitchen, young Richie turns around and asks him a question that’s actually bothering him since he got in Derry.

“How are you gonna go back in the future?”

“Truth? I dunno! Fucking Maturin didn’t tell me. I’m gonna say you two goodbye and go creeping around till he comes and get me!”

“Could you stay here a little more?”

“Why?”

“I… I think I’m gonna tell Eddie about… you know… gonna tell him that I like him”

“Fuck! Right now?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I will chicken out if I don’t do it now. But it might go bad, and I was thinking that maybe having you here after would be… dunno, better?”

“Ok, sure, gonna wait here in the kitchen! Just please, don’t make a foul out of yourself!”

“This isn’t going to happen! Never!”

“Please, spare me these bullshit! You got all shy before and he was just holding your hand! You’re gonna be a mess! And this morning? You were looking at him the way Mrs K looks at a cookie or a giant chocolate cake. You’re not so subtle kid!”

“You were really spying on us this morning!”

“No. Just laying behind bushes trying to peacefully take a piss”

“Ok, fuck you very much, asshole! Now I’m going!”

_This little dick head! He’s really gonna do it? I’m fucking nervous! Jesus! Good luck little brat!_

He watches as Richie heads out in the backyard, then goes standing awkwardly near the window, trying to spy on their conversation. He managed to see Eddie scolding his young self – mad chopping hand included – before everything turns black.

*

“I’ve been waiting down here for forty fucking minutes, asshole! I was afraid that he’d killed you! That he really was the clown or some evil friend of him!”

“Ok Eds, I’m sorry! Please calm down for a while!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down Rich! And don’t call me Eds!”

He sights and cross his arms on his chest.

“I’m sorry Eddie! He told me something about our future. I wish I could tell you everything, but he doesn’t really understand how this time travel things works, and doesn’t know if I should do it”

“He really sounds like you! But it’s ok, I forgive you. Can we just go in and do what we came here to?”

“Sex?”

“Homework, asshole!”

Eddie is actually turning towards the door but Richie grabs his arm and stops him.

“Eds, wait a minute. I… I need to tell you something”

“Don’t call me that! Also you’ve just told me you can’t say anything about this future thing”

“It’s not related to that, it’s just that… he said I should tell you as soon as possible. So I’m gonna tell you now!”

“Ok, but I’m getting a little bit worried Rich”

Richie takes a deep breath, counts to three and then remains silent. He slaps his own face – _move your ass, idiot!_ \- and after that he’s finally ready to speak.

“I like you, all right? Not as a friend, I mean… you’re my best friend and I obviously like you that way! But what I’m trying to say right now is that I like you, really like you. The same way Bill and Ben like Bev. And I know you’ll hate me now, but I can’t fucking change it! Eds, Spagheds! I like you so much, and sometimes is hard to keep it to myself, like when we’re in the hammock together or when I crack a joke and you laugh or giggle! God, I basically open my mouth just to pull some kind of reaction from you! And I promise that if you don’t want to be friends anymore I’m gonna leave you alone! Just… I hope yo won’t hate me! I’m sorry Eds, I’m really so”

He’s running mouth gets suddenly shout down by Eddie’s lips. More than a kiss, is just Eddie trying to make Richie stop talking. It actually works pretty well, and Richie is paralyzed, he doesn’t move a single muscles. His button-up is tightly squeezed in Eddie’s hands. It all last just for a few seconds, then Eddie moves away.

“God! Close your mouth once in a while and stops saying such bullshit!”

Richie is astonished. He remains silent as he watch Eddie – all flustered - as if another head had just appeared over his shoulder. Or maybe two.

“I’m not gonna hate you, dick head! I like you too, a lot. It’s just that I haven’t been brave enough to tell you!”

“Eds, you’ve just kissed me, I think that makes you pretty brave”

“Shut up”

The atmosphere lightens a bit, and Richie snap out of his disbelief, returning to his loud and obnoxious self. He raises an eyebrow and puts on a malicious grin.

“I’m sure now you can understand why your mother is head over heels for me”

“Please, don’t start with this shit!”

“But now I’m gonna dump her, for you!”

“How fucking sweet of you!”

“Anything for my favorite plate of spaghetti!"

“God I hate you!”

Richie shyly takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“No, you don’t”

“Don’t test me!”

“I’ve always known that you couldn’t resist me!”

“Yeah, sure! Now can we go inside and do our fucking homework?”

“Later! I wanna show you something! Come with me! Please?”

“You’re impossible Rich! Where is this thing?”

“Kissing bridge”

“I’m totally not gonna kiss you there! No fucking way!”

“I just wanna show you something Eds! Don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy!”

“Prove it then!”

They keep on bickering as they head to the main street. Richie never looks back at his kitchen windows, and never sees that nobody is there, ready to console him. Not that is a big problem at the moment, cause, surprisingly, there’s nothing he needs to be comforted about. It will bother him only when he’ll come back from the kissing bridge, after have shown Eddie what he’d carved there that summer.

R+E

*

Richie opens his eyes, and the black void is here to wait for him.

“Oh thank you Maturin! Really! You couldn’t let me spy on them a little more, uh? Also I promised him I will be there just in case. That’s an asshole move, you know?”

Just like before, Maturin’s answers take a while to arrive where Richie is.

“It was time for you to come back. Have you told everything at your past self?”

“Yeah, I’ve done it! And now what’s gonna happen? I’m going back in Neibolt house? After Neibolt house? In the townhouse?”

To tell the truth, he’s a little nervous, cause Maturin never told him before what was going to happen after his return from the time travel.

“It doesn’t works like this Richie. I’ve already told you that I can’t take you back there. Why would I send you back in 1988 if I could take you back to a month ago?”

“Yeah, well… this makes sense. You could have left me there than, at least to console that brat after his probably terrible confession! Come on! You’re being really mean man!”

“I’m not human”

“Sure, ok. But you’re still mean!”

The hopes Richie had build up trough the last hours crash loudly over themselves.

_God, I’m so fucking stupid! I really though that I was gonna see him again. What a foul… But now I really don’t feel like going back to my shitty life. I don’t know how I’ll manage to survive._

He sights deeply and find the courage to ask his next question.

“I’m gonna back in LA now, right?”

“No, you can’t”

“Ok, now I’m fucking confused! Where do I need to go?”

“I suddenly take you back here cause you ended your time Richie”

“You could have gave me a fucking clock or a timer! At least I would have known that I was running out of time!”

“That’s not what I mean”

“Then what the fuck are you”

The realization of what Maturing is actually telling him knocks the air out of his lungs. His mouth drops open, and he actually feels like throwing up again – could I even do it?.

“I’m dead.”

“Yes Richie, you are”

“What happened? I had a heart attack or some shit like that?”

“You were in an alcohol-induced coma. That’s why I’d been able to take you here in the first place”

“And then I died. And you took me back here”

“Yes”

Everything feels so surreal that Richie actually doesn’t know what to do nor what to say. But at some point, he begins feelings quite relieved.

_I don’t have to live in a world where Eddie is dead anymore. Don’t have to get through it. I wanted to stay down in Neibolt house with him in the first place, so… this isn’t so bad, I suppose._

Richie never thought about the eventuality of sustain a conversation with someone that’s telling him that he’s dead. Most of people doesn’t have to do it. Probably no one has to do it. But he’s one of a kind, so it doesn’t bother him this much in the end. He just wishes he could say goodbye to the other losers. He’d just run away from them, never picking up their calls after. Sometimes he sends a message to the group chat, just to show them that he’s still alive and still mad. Probably they’re gonna be the ones finding out that he’s dead. Them or his manager.

“So what happens to me now? Where I’m gonna go? Hell? Eternal nothing?”

“Someone is here to take you. I’m going to leave you alone”

“Wait! Wait just a fucking moment!”

“What?”

“Thank you. For taking me back”

Maturin doesn’t answers. He just hums, than everything turns completely silent again. Richie stands still where he is, doesn’t move an inch. After what feels like hours, he hears steps, then someone’s getting closer from behind him. He doesn’t turn around when he speak.

“Are you here to take me to the wonderful death world?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it”

It’s been a month since Richie heard this voice for the last time. He turns very slowly, afraid of what – who - he’s gonna find waiting for him. This can’t be true. Eddie is standing just a few feet from him. No hole in his chest, no wound on his cheek. He’s just smiling awkwardly at him: it seems that he actually wants to laugh but he’s too kind to do it, and like he’s trying to restrain himself from crying, or scolding him. Richie doesn’t really get it.

“You’re so stupid! What have you done Rich?”

Everything’s going a little too fast for Richie’s likes. He really wants to shot forward and hugs Eddie tightly, but he’s too afraid that he will disappear, or that he isn’t dead and he’s gonna wake up on his living room dirty floor.

“Rich? It’s me! Come on, talk to me, dick head!”

_What an asshole!_

“You shouldn't be this rude. I’ve just die!”

“Wrong, you’ve just killed yourself, cause you’re a giant idiot!”

“What can I say? I couldn’t live in that world without Mrs K anymore!”

“Beep beep Rich!”

After that they just stares at each others fondly. Richie’s actually beginning to think that he could easily go to the “Eternal nothing”, if bickering with Eddie is the last thing he’s gonna do in his life. But there’s one thing that he needs to do before that.

“Eddie, I dunno if this is real or not, but I have to tell you something”

“Don’t worry Rich, I assure you we’ll have plenty of time to talk. But now we need to go”

“How does it works?”

Eddie lifts a hand towards him and a shy smile appears over his face.

“You just need to take my hand”

“Does it really work?”

“Yeah, if you believe it does”

Eddie keep on smiling as Richie comes closer to him.

“This is fucking cheesy, you know? And I really don’t wanna ruin this moment, cause clearly you’ve thought about it a lot. But I hope this time it works better than the last one, cause you didn’t really killed It man, you know it? Have you even believed enough?”

“Oh my god! You’re a fucking asshole even when you’re not alive anymore! God I hate you!”

“No, you don’t”

“Don’t test me! Will you take my fucking hand now or are you gonna leave me like this?”

“Dunno why they send you. You’re a little bitch, you know?”

“For fuck's sake, just take it!”

Richie lets out a loud laugh. And it’s strange, cause he’d just died, and he’ll never see the losers again, he’ll never do anything again. But he’s happy. He’s so fucking happy cause he can have this with Eddie.

“Ok man. Calm down!”

He takes Eddie’s hand, and thinks that if he wasn’t already dead, he would have died on spot form that.

_Now I understand what my younger self felt. This is really brain damaging, I give him that!_

“Come on, let’s go. Also, I’ll finally be able to tell you that thing.”

“That would be awesome, Eds”

“Don’t call me that!”

*

**Summer 2016**

"We promised. You have to come back”

As soon as he presses the end call button, Richie takes Eddie’s hand - who’s standing right next to him - and intertwine their fingers. They stare at each other, not saying a single word, just sharing a knowing smile. They’re ready to go. They’ve been ready for twenty seven years. _Together._

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first fic - the first I actually ended, at least. I really can't tell if it's good or not, I've reread it so many times that I kinda hate it now. If anybody feels like commenting - opinions, suggestion, basically anything - it would be awesome! Hope it wasn't just a waste of your time!


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